


Three times people almost found out about them (+ the one time they did)

by scalira



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 3 + 1, Blood Drinking, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scalira/pseuds/scalira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raphael had gone to Magnus’ loft with the idea of telling Simon that he was no longer welcome in their clan, that he should seek a new one to join. He wanted to tell him not to contact him anymore, that whatever had been blooming between them had died.<br/>But he crumbled as Simon wept, and before he realized it he had pulled the fledgling into his arms and was kissing the tears away, whispering promises of forgiveness and protection and maybe even love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three times people almost found out about them (+ the one time they did)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic somehow refused to be written so I'm not really happy with how it turned out but I hope you still like it!

**1.**

The clan is furious after Simon’s betrayal. They wish for justice, for revenge, and most importantly, the wish for blood shed.

Raphael tries to calm them down, to reason with them. He might have ordered the clan to kill Simon, but that was weeks ago and he didn’t even mean it when he said it. He just had to keep up appearances.

Because, no matter what he felt for Simon, he was a leader first and a person later. That’s the mantra he kept repeating to himself when he laid in bed alone, Simon’s usual form absent next to him.

 _Leader first, person later. Leadership first, feelings later_.

It’s selfish – that’s the only way Raphael can describe his actions. No _real_ leader would act the way he does, no vampire with the slightest bit of self-respect would sneak around in the dead of night to meet with the meaningless fledgling who betrayed the clan in a way that should be unforgivable.

And yet he still does it. And he doesn’t even regret it – which maybe is the worst part.

It had taken Simon a pathetic two weeks to make Raphael forgive him. He’d handled it well; using Magnus as the messenger between them. The warlock had delivered Simon’s apologies with a disgusted expression on his face, afterwards mumbling stuff about ridiculous vampire courtesy. But despite Magnus pretending like he couldn’t care less about the blooming romance between the two vampires, he did deem it important enough to make comments of his own about it.

“Solomon is really miserable, Raphael,” he’d said, purposely not using Simon’s real name to get a reaction out of Raphael. Raphael had to physically bite his tongue not to snap ‘it’s _Simon_ ’ because that would be exactly what Magnus wanted.

Raphael had at first just simply stated that he _wanted_ Simon to be miserable, that he couldn’t care less about making him feel better. But then Magnus started delivering letters, carefully written in Simon’s best writing, and Raphael could imagine him bent over his desk, his tongue sticking out in pure concentration like he always did when he was writing. Raphael had only ordered him to write letters to corresponding clans a handful of times, but he had always enjoyed the way Simon held his pen and moved his wrist to curl words on paper. There was something almost graceful about it, something that calmed his ever present nerves.

And he cherished Simon’s letters of apology; kept them well hidden in his room and reread them when he couldn’t sleep, caressing the pen strokes and staring at Simon’s name at the bottom of the page. He almost felt like a love struck teen again, but then he remembered he was no longer a teen and this situation was way more serious than some silly teen romance.

Magnus delivered five letters before Raphael wrote one back, and not long after that they met on neutral ground: Magnus’ loft.

Simon cried when he apologized; big, bloody tears rolling down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto Magnus’ soft carpet. He told Raphael he’d been looking for Camille ever since she escaped but she was untraceable, even with the help of the Shadowhunters. And he begged. He begged for Raphael to look at him and then he begged for forgiveness and even for punishment.

Raphael had gone to Magnus’ loft with the idea of telling Simon that he was no longer welcome in their clan, that he should seek a new one to join. He wanted to tell him not to contact him anymore, that whatever had been blooming between them had died.

But he crumbled as Simon wept, and before he realized it he had pulled the fledgling into his arms and was kissing the tears away, whispering promises of forgiveness and protection and maybe even love.

That had been three weeks ago. Raphael still hasn’t told anyone that he forgave Simon and nobody knows he’s been seeing him in secret, but the initial hatred amongst the clan seems to have faded to just hurt and anger. They don’t mention Simon anymore, and Raphael is grateful – afraid he will reveal their secret relationship if someone brings him up.

So he spends his nights carefully juggling seeing Simon and attending general clan business, careful not to raise suspicion. It’s not the best situation in the world, but they make it work.

They came across an abandoned Victorian house on one of their nightly strolls and agreed to meet there as often as they could. Simon still lives at Magnus’, mostly because there’s still the risk of kids or other people breaking into the Victorian house and exposing him to sunlight, but he goes to the house every night, waiting for Raphael. Raphael tries to be there as often as possible, but some nights he simply can’t make it.

They both agreed that texting each other would be too dangerous, lest someone go through Raphael’s phone and see he’d been talking to Simon, so the fledgling sometimes waits for him entire nights without Raphael showing up. Raphael always tries to make up for it by bringing extra blood and a portable DVD-player with Simon’s favorite movies to watch.

Tonight is one of those nights, Raphael having not seen Simon for three nights because he was caught up in a problem between two other clans. But now that he has sorted that out he’s making up for the time apart.

There’s not a thing in the world he would rather do than to expose his neck to Simon and let him drink from him, but he knows he can’t do that – not yet. The clan will smell Simon on him and put the pieces together, and he’ll probably be overthrown and ripped apart for treason.

So he just settles with slow making out, straddling Simon’s hips on the dusty floor as one of his movies plays in the background. Simon’s hands are still on his sides, fingers digging into his skin but not moving, almost like he’s scared the slightest shift will scare him away. His lips are soft but demanding against Raphael’s, his tongue determined. Raphael almost gets lost of it, almost loses track of all space and time, until he tastes blood.

“Shit,” Simon says, licking his bottom lip, “sorry. Got a bit carried away there.”

Raphael licks his own lip and smiles, focusing on healing the small wound Simon inflicted by tugging at his lip a bit too harshly. Then he rolls off of Simon and plops down next to him instead.

“Hey, don’t get off. Come back!” Simon complains, already grabbing at Raphael’s hips again to pull him back into his lap.

“Nah,” Raphael says, rolling out of Simon’s reach, “we should really finish that movie.”

“It’s a stupid movie. The guy shoots all the people in the car except himself and then the army appears so he killed them all for nothing. Now, back to making out.”

Raphael chuckles and shakes his head, stretching his neck to peck Simon lightly on the lips. He wants to say something, about Simon being ridiculous or how he hates spoilers, but there’s a noise outside and he’s immediately alert.

Raphael stills completely, tries to single out the noise to figure out if it’s a threat to them. He can’t locate a heartbeat so it wasn’t a Mundane or an animal. He thinks he might’ve imagined it or it was the wind, but then he hears it again.

Footsteps.

A vampire.

“Simon, you have to go,” he says urgently. Simon doesn’t bother disagreeing, already scrambling to his feet and grabbing his jacket. He swiftly kisses Raphael one last time before hopping through a window and disappearing into the night.

Raphael doesn’t wait for the vampire to come to him and walks to the front door to meet them instead.

When he opens the door, Lily is standing with her fist raised like she was about to knock.

“What are you doing here?” Raphael snaps. Lily makes a face at him before pushing past him to get inside.

“I tracked you here,” she shrugs as if that’s the most normal thing in the world.

“ _Why_?”

“Because,” she explains as she takes in the room they’re standing in, “you’ve been out a lot more than usual lately. I used to basically have to drag you outside, and now you’re gone almost every night.”

Raphael glares at her.

“I just need some time for myself. Is that illegal now?”

“No,” Lily says thoughtfully.

“But I was just checking if you weren’t secretly meeting with someone.”

“Why would you suspect such a thing?”

Lily points at the portable DVD-player on the floor, a movie playing on mute.

“Why are you watching lame movies alone in an abandoned Victorian house?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Raphael counters.

“I’ve seen weirder things.”

“True. But watching movies was kind of the fledgling’s thing. And we all know how you felt about him.”

Raphael snarls at her as he moves to close the DVD-player. When he turns back around, Lily is still waiting for an explanation.

“I miss him, okay?” Raphael bites, and technically it isn’t a lie.

“It is no crime to miss someone you cared about. And since I apparently like torturing myself, I figured it would be a good idea to watch some of his favorite movies.”

Lily inhales sharply.

“Then why do I smell him here? He has this distinct scent – caramel, almost.”

Raphael points at the Star Wars shirt he’s wearing. He enjoys wearing Simon’s clothes just as much as Simon enjoys wearing Raphael’s, and they had switched attire after a slightly hotter make out session earlier that night.

“Like I said: I miss him.”

Lily’s suspicious expression softens until she almost looks embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she says, bowing her head.

“Of course you do. You’re allowed to. I should’ve trusted you not to do anything harmful to the clan.”

Raphael’s gut twists painfully. _Harmful to the clan_. Is that what it is? Is his relationship with Simon really that toxic? But before he can allow his thoughts to spiral and confess everything to his second in command, he gathers his stuff and leads her to the door.

“Apology accepted. Now come on. Let’s go home.”

He looks back to the dusty room with the plastic covered furniture one last time before following Lily outside.

They don’t meet up at the Victorian house after that anymore.

 

**2.**

Simon gets sick.

Raphael knew this was bound to happen, though he was hoping his close relationship with him would be enough for it not to. He’s immediately alert as soon as Simon starts coughing, and by the time he starts coughing up blood, Raphael has a plan.

“You need to get back to the clan,” he says one night as he wipes some sweat off Simon’s forehead with a washing cloth. They’re at Magnus’ loft, which turned into their new meeting place after they deemed the Victorian house unsafe for them. Magnus usually pretends to not like them taking up space in his loft, but he’s always conveniently out when Raphael shows up. Raphael highly suspects him doing it to give them some privacy, which means a lot to him. Of course he would never actually tell him that.

“They’ll kill me,” Simon croaks. Raphael offers him some more blood to smooth his raw throat, but Simon refuses.

“The sickness will kill you first if you don’t get back. Fledglings need a clan, Simon. Without them, this is what happens to you. You get sick and eventually your body stops working and you just – you – ”

“Die?”

“Not if I can stop it. Look, I’m still their leader. They don’t have to find out about us, we can just pretend. I’ll be the graceful clan leader, forgiving enough to let the sick fledgling back into the clan if he undergoes some type of punishment. You’ll have a clan again, get better, and I won’t have to watch you die. Win-win situation for everyone.”

Simon tries to chuckle, but it turns into a wet cough followed by throwing up blood on Magnus’ carpet. He falls back into his pillow covered in sweat.

“Okay,” he heaves, “your plan sounds more appealing than dying.”

Raphael nods once before moving to clean the blood. Simon keeps apologizing for the mess he made, even when his breath comes out in wheezes, but Raphael just kisses his forehead and tells him it’s going to be okay.

And he hopes to God he’s right.

***

Raphael learned to hide his emotions over the decades, realized showing emotions was weakness in a world built to destroy his kind. So he think he pulls a pretty convincing act when Simon stumbles up to the front doors of the hotel, so sick he can barely stand, and Raphael holds back the clan before they can kill him. His voice is steady, emotionless, demanding to be listened to.

“What are you doing back here, fledgling?” He asks. Simon looks at him and for a moment Raphael thinks he won’t be able to keep up the act, but he looks too miserable to say anything other than what they practiced.

“I came to beg for forgiveness,” he says weakly, his voice barely carrying far enough to be heard by the entire clan.

“And why should we forgive you?”

“I’m dying, Raphael. You said vampires look out for their own – and I’m still a vampire. One of you.”

Raphael looks at the rest of the clan, who all stare at him in anticipation. They’re probably expecting him to order them to kill Simon, but Raphael lets his gaze drift back to Simon and says: “That you are. And I made a promise, a vow as you will, when I became leader of this clan that I would protect all my clan members. And since you were part of the clan when I made this vow, I have to stick with it.”

There are some grumbled protests, a screamed ‘kill him!’, but Raphael raises his hand to silence them.

“Am I not a good leader?” He questions.

“Do I not treat you well? Do I not keep you fed, make sure our alliances with the other clans are strong? Am I not a better leader than Camille was, who used Mundanes as play things and made us clean up her mess?”

There is silence, and then Lily steps forward and states: “I’ve been part of this clan for decades, way before Raphael joined. I have seen leaders come and go, chosen and overthrown, and I can honestly say that nobody lives up to Raphael.” She looks at him, a small encouraging smile dancing on her lips. “So if Raphael deems the fledgling important enough to redeem, then so do I.”

Raphael nods at her to acknowledge her speech, then turns to the rest of the clan.

“Anyone want to add to that?”

When there is no response, he walks towards Simon and supports his weight as he guides him back to his old room.

“The fledgling is back and he is here to stay,” he claims.

“As soon as he feels better, we will start his punishment.”

***

Raphael has to physically drag himself out of Simon’s room after he’s made sure he has enough blood and a bucket to throw up in. Every fiber in his body is yelling for him to stay, to take care of him, to make him feel better, but that would only look suspicious. He has to take a moment to recollect himself, to put on his usual emotionless façade, before he can leave the room.

Lily is waiting in the hallway, casually leaning against the wall and inspecting her nails for dirt.

“So the fledgling is back,” she states.

“That he is,” Raphael nods, walking away from her. Lily follows suit.

“You must be happy to have him back.”

Raphael turns to her.

“What are you implying, Lily?”

“Nothing! Just – I know how you felt about him, Raphael. How you _feel_ about him.”

“My _feelings_ don’t cloud my judgment. I can’t let him die, alone and scared, when Camille was the reason he became what he is. That would be unfair to him. I value his life, Lily, even without my feelings for him.”

She nods as if she understands and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I know and I’m with you, Raphael. I support you. I’m just not sure the others do.”

“They will eventually, I’m sure of it.”

Lily nods again and then turns into another hallway, leaving Raphael alone with his thoughts.

***

Simon gets better as soon as he’s surrounded by the clan again, and he’s strong enough to undergo his punishment after having been back at the hotel for only a week.

The clan decided he should have the same fate Camille had, so he will be put in a chained coffin for a week without blood. It will weaken him immensely, but it won’t kill him.

Raphael struggles to keep the façade on as Simon gets into the coffin, looking scared as ever. He wants to blow the whole thing off, wrap his arms around him to protect him and yell at everyone to leave him alone. He even whimpers when the lid is closed and the chains are wrapped around the coffin, to which half of the clan raises their eyebrows at him.

“Everything okay?” Someone asks. Raphael clears his throat, feeling the lump forming there. He just hopes to God nobody sees the tears clouding his vision as he furiously blinks them away.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice shaking.

“Lock him up.”

“Are you sure?” Stan questions.

“You look like you’re going to throw up. Raphael, you and the fledgling – ” He lets the rest of the sentence linger in the air for anyone to interpret, but Raphael turns away before they can read the truth in his eyes.

“I said lock him up. We will free him in a week.”

And with that, he leaves the basement.

***

Raphael has been a vampire for decades. He has known starvation, depression, hopelessness, war. He spent years trying to get away from everyone as best as he could, lived in complete solitude until it nearly drove him insane. But somehow the week leading up to Simon’s release feels like the longest period of time in his entire existence.

He tries distracting himself as best as he can – with paper work and clan business and trips to Magnus’ loft, which drives the warlock up the walls. He’s seen Raphael sulking, and he’s seen him miserable, but he’s never seen him like _this_.

“Seriously, Raphael,” he says one night, sipping from a cocktail glass, “it’s not even that you look _sad_. It’s just that you look, pardon my words, _lifeless_.”

Raphael swears at him, about going to Hell and that vampires are supposed to look like this, but deep down he knows Magnus is right. He feels lifeless too.

And then finally, after feeling like he’d suffered through an entire century, the night of Simon’s release comes. Raphael insists on going to the basement alone, despite the arguments from the others that Simon will be hungry and possibly dangerous.

“He’ll be weak,” Raphael counters, trying not to straight up _run_ to the basement in order to keep up appearances.

“I can handle him, trust me. Let me do this alone. I should be the first one he sees when he’s released so he knows who granted him mercy.”

There’s really no arguing with that statement, so the others fall back and disappear back into the lounge or wait somewhere else for the fledgling to re-emerge.

When Raphael has made absolutely sure that nobody is following him down the basement, he speeds to the closed door behind which Simon lies and then to the chained coffin.

His hands shake when he unlocks the coffin and opens the lid. He holds his breath when he sees Simon, eyes closed and lying perfectly still, not even his chest moving. He looks really dead like this, as if Raphael is at his funeral, and the older vampire gently nudges him before he can start panicking.

It takes a few nudges and a proper shove before Simon wakes up.

His pupils are blown wide with hunger and his fangs have permanently dropped. His claws dig into the material of the coffin as he slowly sits up, his eyes never leaving Raphael’s.

“Simon,” Raphael breathes, scared his voice will crack if he raises it any louder.

“Simon, it’s me. I’m here.”

Simon looks him up and down but doesn’t seem to recognize him.

“I’m… so… thirsty,” he says, his voice sounding wrong and starved.

“Of course,” Raphael nods, holding up two blood bags he took from upstairs, “I brought you blood.”

Simon snatches them out of Raphael’s hands and tears them open to drink from them, spilling onto his chin and shirt. It reminds Raphael of that night at the cemetery, when Simon had emerged from his grave undead and hungry. He hadn’t particularly cared for him back then. So many things have changed in only a couple of months.

Simon drinks five blood bags before he recognizes Raphael, and then he throws himself into his arms.

“That was the worst week of my life,” he sobs into the crook of Raphael’s neck. Raphael rubs his back as he holds him.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, “I know. I’m sorry. It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s over.”

They stand in the basement just holding each other for God knows how long before Simon is ready to face the clan. They hold hands as they walk up the stairs, only remembering to let go just in time before someone sees. Lily looks at them with something close to suspicion in her eyes, but her mouth remains shut.

The clan reluctantly welcomes Simon back, not with the same warmth they once did but certainly not with the hostility they possessed towards him weeks ago. It’s like what they had been expecting and it might not be what Simon had hoped, but at least he’s no longer dying and still nobody knows about their secret relationship.

They both agree it would be best to keep it that way.

 

**3.**

Things slowly but surely go back to how they used to be in the Dumort. The others are still cautious when it comes to Simon, double checking if he’s in the room before telling someone a secret or something that can be held against them if Simon turns out to be a spy for the Shadowhunters, but they lose a bit of their hostility every passing day. Simon visibly relaxes when nobody hisses anymore when he enters a room, his shoulders slacking and an easy smile on his face.

But though the clan probably won’t feel the urge to rip Simon apart anymore, he and Raphael are still sneaking around and keep their relationship a secret from the others.

Surprisingly, it’s a lot easier to keep it hidden now that Simon has moved back into the hotel. Raphael doesn’t need to make up excuses to go out anymore, doesn’t need to be careful about Simon’s scent lingering on him. Everyone knows they were close before the betrayal, having built a bond almost in the blink of an eye. So naturally, Simon starts finding his way back to Raphael’s room right before dawn to ‘talk’ (they make sure they do actually talk between making out as quietly as they can in case someone is listening in on them) and they pick up their usual training routine.

Raphael doesn’t take Simon’s training as serious anymore and usually just uses it as an excuse to touch him without the threat of someone seeing them. After all, if anyone were to walk in on them, they could easily dismiss it as some kind of training exercise.

That’s why he’s currently pinned against the floor of the gym in the basement of the Dumort, Simon devouring his skin and peppering his jaw with kisses. Raphael’s hands are held above his head by the fledgling, whose mouth sets him on fire where his lips touch his skin. The aching is back, the old instinct to let Simon bite him and show complete submission. Every day they are together it gets harder for Raphael to ignore this urge and he’s shaking with the effort of it.

Simon grinds down on him and Raphael’s hips thrust up in reply, needy and trembling. He gasps when he feels how hard Simon is in his pants.

“ _Fuck_ , Simon,” he moans. Simon just hums and grinds down on him again, earning himself another moan.

“Simon, we have to stop,” he eventually pants, putting all his strength in sitting up. Simon is sitting in his lap now, legs wrapped around his torso. His lips are swollen and slightly parted, looking as inviting as ever.

“Why?” He asks, sounding dazed. His pupils are blown wide.

“Because,” Raphael says, wiping a loose curl out of Simon’s face, “if we don’t stop now I won’t last very long.”

“Are you saying I could make you come in your pants without touching you?” Simon asks cheerfully.

“Don’t be so smug about it,” Raphael complains, but Simon just giggles louder.

He’s about to push him off and stand when there’s a knock on the door. It takes Simon a millisecond less to react and he already has Raphael pinned to the ground again when the door opens and Stan peeks around the corner.

“Ha!” Simon exclaims proudly.

“That’s the fifth time today I worked you to the ground. You’re getting weak, Raphael.”

Raphael is grateful for Simon and his ability to be quick on his feet at all times, so he calls upon his best scowl before easily rolling them around and pinning Simon to the ground instead.

“You were saying?” Raphael wonders, and then he looks up to Stan.

“Can I help you?”

Stan looks between the two of them before informing Raphael there has been called a meeting and he is expected to attend. Raphael sighs and dismisses Stan, waiting for him to leave the room before standing.

“That was a close one,” he says. Simon nods in agreement.

“Thankfully I always know what to do. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Raphael rolls his eyes at him and gives him one last kiss before heading out, still feeling the deep aching throb through his veins.

 

**+1**

Raphael isn’t a jealous person.

Raphael is _not_ a jealous person. He isn’t. He truly, honestly is _not_.

But that doesn’t explain the sickening sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when one of the clan members takes a special interest in Simon. It doesn’t explain why he could suddenly throw a tantrum the size of Texas or why he snaps at Simon when he tells him about this girl in the clan suddenly being really nice to him.

Raphael isn’t a jealous person. But why does his vision blur red every time she lets her fingernails travel over Simon’s arm or every time she laughs at one of his jokes? And why does he feel like he’s about to throw up when she throws her hair back and sways her hips for him, trying to lure him to her room with her intoxicating perfume and long legs?

He tries not to let it affect his relationship with Simon. He knows what jealousy does to people, has experienced it first hand when Camille thought he was hers and he had the audacity to get involved with other people – _boys_ , even. He will not let the green monster consume it like it did Camille.

But then the girl snatches Simon by the collar of his shirt and pulls him down into a kiss right in front of Raphael’s eyes.

Raphael learned to hide his emotions over the decades, but not even _centuries_ of practice could prepare him for the wave of pure heartbreak that suddenly washes over him. He no longer has control over his feelings as he hisses loudly at the vampire who dared to kiss Simon. He can no longer blink away the tears as he storms off, snarling and growling at everyone who gets in his way.

When Simon comes into his room, stuttering apologies about not having known she felt like that and reminders of how much he loves him, Raphael loses the last ounce of control he possessed.

Simon is pressed against the nearest wall before either of them can all but blink and Raphael’s fangs drop in anticipation.

“Simon,” he says around them, “I want – I need to – ” He can’t even finish his sentence, too fixated on Simon’s pulsating vein, throbbing invitingly for him.

Simon doesn’t need words to understand though, and he tilts his head further for him.

“People will know,” he warns, but there’s no urgency in his voice. Simon wants this as much as Raphael does.

“I don’t care. They need to know – they should know. We belong to each other and nobody else.”

Simon nods, weaves his fingers through Raphael’s hair to push him closer to his neck.

“Drink,” he says, and it’s the only encouragement Raphael needs.

The taste of Simon’s blood explodes on his tongue, hot and pure and delicious. The world is bright behind his closed eyelids and Raphael thinks this might be the closest to seeing sunlight he’s ever gonna get. The feeling that rushes over him is indescribable – something he’s never felt before yet it feels like his body had been missing it, something foreign yet known.

He barely registers Simon’s moan or how his hips jerk against Raphael’s, doesn’t even know he’s moaning himself until Simon is whispering his name in between them.

Raphael pulls back with a guttural groan, licks his lips and then tilts his head for Simon, who turns them around so Raphael is leaning against the wall now.

Finally having him drink from him is better than Raphael could’ve ever imagined. Sure, he’d known he’d get pleasure out of it, but this is more than that. He has to put all his strength in not falling to the ground or rip Simon’s clothes off or both.

Soon they’re both panting messes, thrusting hips together and digging nails over skin, all sounds drowned out except their own breathing.

That’s why they don’t hear the person coming before it’s too late.

“Hey, Simon. Are you in here? Lily said you were and – oh my god.”

The voice belongs to Clary Fray, which is already annoying enough if she wasn’t interrupting something Raphael had been looking forward to for weeks. Raphael glares at her, Simon’s lips still on his neck, and pulls back his lips in a snarl.

“I – this is a bad timing,” she stutters, backing away out of the room. Simon doesn’t even seem to have registered her presence, only pressing himself against Raphael harder as he drinks.

And Raphael couldn’t care less about who knows about them anymore, so he just closes his eyes and lets the pleasure wash over him.

***

The clan, of course, knows immediately after they emerge from Raphael’s bedroom. Not only are they holding hands, they smell of each other so strongly it can’t be denied that they fed off each other.

Lily is the first to congratulate them, saying how she’d always known. The others follow after her, trying to smile at Simon and patting him on the shoulder. Nobody dares to even _look_ at him in a slightly threatening way now that Raphael has made it clear that they belong to each other.

The Shadowhunters know too, of course. Thanks to Fray. Raphael isn’t too bothered by it, but Simon can’t figure out for the life of him how come they know if he didn’t tell them.

Magnus is just really happy they’re all out in the open now, to which Alec questions if he’d always known.

“True friends keep each other’s secrets,” he shrugs with a wink at Raphael, and for what feels like the first time in decades, the vampire offers the warlock a genuine smile.

**Author's Note:**

> For the kissing prompt: accidentally witnessed kiss and kiss against a wall


End file.
